Cough Syrup
by callanleigh
Summary: Getting inside was easy, the fallout after Anie stayed was only the beginning. Trying to hide from her demons, she soon learns there is no shadowy corner. Pre-season 4 AU-ish. Tig/OC
1. One

This is my first attempt at writing like this (a multiple part story) in over a year. I've recently started rewatching 'Sons' in preparation for Season 4 and this story just came to me. It has sparked life into an otherwise frustratingly blocked brain. I love feedback and constructive criticism! Thanks! _Cal

"Cough Syrup" by callanleigh

One.

_A dark world aches for a splash of the sun_

A gentle, spring breeze rustled through the moonlit treetops of Charming, CA. The otherwise still and silent town was punctuated fiercely by the bright lights and loud music emanating from the clubhouse of outlaw motorcycle club, the Sons of Anarchy.

A few blocks away, a young girl was approaching the building. She was a girl with a mission, but without a solid plan. She could tell she was nearby her destination when she heard the music and saw the bright lights far down the road. Swiftly but carefully, she continued to walk toward her target, occasionally stopping to adjust the bag slung across her shoulder which managed to barely contain all of her belongings.

As the clubhouse got closer, she could feel all of the blood rushing to her brain, her veins coursing with adrenaline. She felt her cheeks turning red and her head went hot. She tried to shove her apprehensions away by persistently repeating an encouraging monologue. Regardless of how terrified she was, she had to get this done.

Once she arrived at her vantage point across the street from the rear entrance, she knew she had a reason to feel uneasy. The entire building was surrounded by a menacing fence, with men perched on their motorcycles at every available entrance point. As she everything became even clearer, she froze in the shadows. What if this didn't work out how she was hoping, was the risk worth it? Either way, she was putting her life into the hands of fate. Taking a deep breath and wearing her most confident and flirty smile, she set off across the road. Deciding that the best course of action was a direct one, she approached the side gate without anymore hesitation. The entrance was guarded by a man with tan skin, tattoos and a mohawk. He looked close to her age which assured her to straighten herself out and continue to walk.

Juice, Intelligence Officer and hacker genius for SOA, sometimes took pride in being selected to the post of security at the clubhouse. He usually watched very carefully and tried his best to stay on constant alert, but today he only really wanted to be inside this party. Sighing, he chugged the rest of his beer and reached down for another when something in the shadow across the street caught his eye. He stared at it for a moment, immediately placing his hand on his gun before realizing that it was a girl. Her bone-straight, mid-length, dirty blonde hair was being tossed lightly by the breeze. Circling her head was two strands of thin, braided yarn twisted together in blue and brown with matching large, feather earrings. Her body was covered with a dark blue crop top, accessorized with a few necklaces and a floor length, gauzy light brown skirt. Juice thought she was pretty enough, but soon realized he had never before seen her around Charming.

"Hey, doll, are you lost?" He called out to her. She swallowed hard at his defense, but forced her smile.

"Not really," she replied, approaching. "Hey, uh, do you know where a girl can get some good smoke around here?" She batted her eyes at him which caused Juice to let out a laugh. He was impressed and assumed there had to be someone inside the party who would find her interesting for the night.

"Sure, sweet thing. Right this way," he reached back and opened the gate for her. She grinned widely at him, flashing a mouthful of straight, white teeth.

"Thank you so much!" She quickly went inside the gate before turning back to him. "I promise I won't tell you're the one who snuck me in. She flashed him a quick peace sign before making her way inside the clubhouse. She poked her head in the door, checking to see if anyone was around before slipping inside. She looked extremely out of place in her current location, but her looks were vaguely deceitful. She soon spotted a dark corner where she would be able to observe nearly everybody without being easily observed herself. She certainly would be an eye sore out in the light. From this dark perspective, she sat with her legs crossed and casually surveyed the scene of boozing, smoking and explicit sex happening before her eyes.

Across the room, SOA Sergeant-at-arms Tig Trager, stood holding up a wall and nursing a warm beer, monitoring the landscape. The party happening now was very much the same as all the parties before and normally, he would've been having the time of his life but tonight felt off for him. He had been waiting patiently all night for something bad to happen but nothing had yet occurred. He was thinking about calling it a night when movement in the far, dark corner of the room caught his eye. He set off for the corner cautiously; his hand automatically placed on the gun tucked into his dirty, faded jeans.

She twitched nervously when she realized Tig had spotted her. Placing her feet on the ground, she quickly grabbed her bag in case she needed to run. Tig's eyebrows knit together in concern as he strained to see who was in the shadow. Not wanting to startle him anymore, she stuck her right hand out in the dim light of the clubhouse in a non-threatening peace sign, hoping it would get him to take his hand off his gun.

"Relax, man. I come in peace," she giggled. Her dulcet voice carried across Tig's ears softly. He stepped warily into the shadow and rubbed his eyes hoping to see her more clearly. Her small, round face was lit cheerfully by a pleasant smile and she held her head cocked to the side as she stared at him. With only a moment hesitation, she patted the empty space beside her and crossed her legs again, covering them with her long skirt. Tig liked how the bangles and bracelets on her wrists all clinked together as she moved. Bewildered with his thoughts, he shook his head, snapping back to the situation. She couldn't have been older than 20, he guessed, and she looked completely at ease.

"Who are you?" He asked. Just because she was young, gorgeous and looked extremely fuckable didn't mean he should just automatically trust her.

"I said relax, okay, man?" she laughed, brushing her hair behind her right shoulder. "Name's Ánie. Please, sit," she once again patted the seat beside her. "You look like you could use a break, dude." Entranced, Tig took an awkward seat beside her. Usually, this meant the hard part was over. He already had her attention, the next part was supposed to be the wanton fuck session and a shove out of bed in a few hours but the words weren't coming to him.

"How, uh, how do you spell your name?" He had never heard a name like it before and honestly it was the only thing he could think to say.

"Á-N-I-E, but you say it like, 'a-ha-nee' but extremely fast. Ánie." She paused. "I don't know, they say my mom was tripping out when I was born." She looked up into his eyes and shrugged nonchalant adding, "She probably wanted to name me, like, Annie or something lame but she was tripping too hard and 'Ánie' came about instead. Who the fuck knows?" she laughed.

"That's awesome," Tig laughed. She smiled back at him. After a short pause, the pair continued to sit in the dark corner and make the smallest of talk, unexpectedly lost in each others presence, now unaware of the life beyond their new corner. Even at risk of losing this night, Tig diligently followed through with something of the norm for this kind of party.

"Would you want to move somewhere quieter by any chance?" Ánie felt her breath freeze for a brief moment. Was this part really this easy? Pushing her conscience far away to its normal location, she grinned and replied,

"Hell yeah." Tig stood hastily and held his hand out to her. He wasn't really sure where he was going with this. It would obviously be easy just to fuck her brains out tonight, but he wasn't sure he wanted to; he wasn't sure how to classify the type of arousal he was presently feeling. It was frustrating that he couldn't put his finger on it. Ánie placed her slender hand in his, immediately stimulated by his rough palms. He didn't say a word as he tugged her away from the cozy corner. Ánie watched nervously as they entered a hallway, the party growing fainter behind them.

Clay Marrow, President of the SOA, stood behind the bar drinking in front of two other members, Chibbs and Bobby, who were seated at the bar. Clay was a rough looking man, tall and sturdy with a dark, hard stare. Chibbs had a thick Scottish accent and two scars on his face while Bobby was a short, stout man with a thick beard. Clay's eyes widened when he caught Tig leaving the party with a young, blonde girl. Before they left, he pointed in their direction so his friends would look as well.

"Who's that hippie chick being drug away by Tig?" Clay questioned. They all looked at each other with raised eyebrows as the pair slipped out of view.

"No idea, don't see many of those types around here," Chibbs stated.

"Probably just a straggler looking for a quick dick," Bobby added, turning back and taking a deep gulp of his beer. Clay shook his head.

"Chibbs is right. She doesn't look like the type who just stumbles into Charming and right into the arms of our most violent member. I need someone to find Juice and tell him we need some scoop on this tart a.s.a.p.! I'm going home." Clay chugged the rest of his beer before slamming the glass down on the bar. He stepped away, patting his friends on their shoulders. They both responded with a nod as they watched him leave.


	2. Two

"Cough Syrup" by callanleigh

Two.

_Your brain seems bruised with numb surprise_

Ánie was only able to glace at the pictures of soldiers, children and SOA members that she did and didn't recognize scattered all over the walls of the clubhouse as she continued to follow Tig around the building, her hand still placed intently in his palm. This part of the evening was inevitable, even though the thought of fucking anybody right now sent a tremble up Ánie's spine. This was exactly the sort of behavior she was running from. Tig stopped halfway down the second hall and began unlocking a brown door with laminated picture of Tigger on it, causing Ánie to laugh a little.

"How cute," she offered. He turned his tired brown eyes to her and felt warmth consume him, an urge to pull her close. He fought it off and laughed briefly.

"Well, what can I say? I am adorable," he joked, his go to mechanism for awkward moments. Tig still wasn't sure why he was bringing her to his room when making his usual moves didn't feel right, but he was unsure of any other way to behave. He was also almost absolutely sure that he was incapable in this life of having any kind of serious, long term relationship because he wasn't exactly the type of guy girls normally pursued; in fact, he knew he terrified most people. But as he watched Ánie look around, her hands holding onto the strap of her bag, no fear or apprehension played on her face. Tig could feel his heart racing in an abnormal way, it didn't feel like the adrenaline he got before a kill or a heist, this rush of feelings was only vaguely familiar.

He walked across the room to the only chair and slipped his club Cut off his shoulders, placing it on the back. He crossed in front of Ánie who smiled at him as he walked by despite her waning confidence. She thought back to the stories and legends she had heard about Tig and now could admit that she was scared. He didn't sound like someone who would treat her with kindness, but then again what man did. Even still, she always harbored a bit of hope that the next guy would be different.

Tig walked over to his bed, removed his shoes and laid down. He looked at Ánie who was still standing in the middle of the room. She didn't move because she was unsure what his angle was at the moment. She thought she understood that this was going to be a one night hook-up, but instead it seemed like they were just hanging out. She didn't know what exactly she was supposed to do.

"Do you want to come sit?" he asked, nodding to the empty side of the bed. She approached the bed with trepidation and the closer she got, the more she noticed how much older he was than her. He smiled at her as she sat down next to him, sitting with her legs crossed. Instantly, Ánie felt affection growing between them and she was unexpectedly overwhelmed with the desire to be the one who could always help him de-stress after a long day, the one he always came back for in the end. She shook her head, snapping out of her trance, drawing her eyes away from him and feeling her face flush. Tig leaned over and turned off the overhead light, opting for the dimmer lamp on the bedside table. He watched content as Ánie began to deconstruct her outfit taking off her accessories and placing them it in specific smaller bags inside of her big bag.

"So, are you, like, a true hippie? Like, you don't eat meat and recycle; all that tree hugging bullshit?" Tig wondered out loud. Ánie laughed, placing her bag on the ground.

"I'm not vegan, man; I mostly meditate and just enjoy feeling in touch with the energy the Earth gives me. It's all I have most of the time," she explained, facing him. "Sometimes I stop whatever I'm doing and stare at the mountains or watch a stream and consider myself lucky just to live somewhere with so much incredible, natural beauty." Tig was fascinated; he had never heard a woman talk to him this comfortably without knowing him really well. He wasn't sure of a proper way to respond, extremely confused by his compound emotions.

"Stop and watch a stream? I don't got time for that shit," he replied, his tone light. She laughed a little and shook her head.

"Nah, I guess not," she added, leaning over the bed and fishing something out of her bag. Tig raised an impressed eyebrow as she pulled out a small pipe and some weed she kept in a small round tin. "And I also love to get stoned," she added, taking a hit from the pipe before handing it to Tig. He accepted it happily, taking a long drag.

"Where you from?" Tig questioned, exhaling the smoke and smiling as it plumed around their faces. The haze between them mixed with the vision of Ánie taking another hit was seducing him.

"Kinda far," she replied. Her personal debate continued over how much info she wanted to let go of this soon, or whether or not she could trust Tig with her story.

"How did you get here then?" He was genuinely curious about where she was from and why she became this fascinating person but he always worried about motives when someone just shows up at the club's doorstep; it was his job to ask questions.

"I just got on a bus and took it to wherever it was headed," she lied. Tig was unable to give her statement much thought as he started noticing how high he was when he couldn't tear his eyes away from the cloudy vision of Ánie flipping the lighter through her fingers.

She was pleased to see his eyes pinched thin from his inner fog when she caught him staring at her hands. Gradually, he sat up straight forcing himself out his daze.

"Whoa. I haven't smoked like this in a really long time," he laughed. "I'm truly fucking baked." Ánie giggled with him, their bloodshot eyes connecting.

"Me too, dude," she replied as she laid down. It felt so good to lie in a bed for a change after a few days of running, it was also nice to not need to sleep with one eye open. Tig watched her relax, and for a moment he reflected on how he had never met anyone quite like her before. Her cute, round face was complimented by the way her dark blonde hair fell over her shoulders and admired her decent chest as it rose and fell with her steady breath. Usually hidden by her billowy clothing, he could now gaze at her nice curves as well; the mixture of her body and the buzz he had were causing his brain to feel numb. He cast his gaze down to the bed sheet, away from her.

"So, what are you running from?" he asked, picking some fuzz off the comforter as his mind continued to tingle. He waited for a response but when he looked over, Ánie appeared to be sound asleep. The corners of Tig's mouth twitched up.

"Eh, we'll talk about it later," he said, turning off the light.

Ánie, wide-eye and scared, was free falling feet first down a long, skinny, dark hole. Scenes from throughout her life, both extremely painful and sublimely happy, where nailed to the dirt walls and streaked passed her in rapid succession as she kept plunging farther and farther into blackness. Just when she thought she was about to hit bottom, she shot up in bed, chest heaving and her skin covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

She panted for a moment, trying to catch her breath and wiping the sweat from her arms and legs. She was frustrated that she was still having this dream where she was falling down her personal, never-ending rabbit hole. Briefly forgetting where she was, she looked around before remembering there was another body in the bed that was fast asleep.

She smiled to herself sheepishly at the memories from last night, she hadn't had a relaxing, stress-free evening like that in far too long, but now it was daytime and she had to face her problems. The constant mystery and instability was making her feel extremely anxious.

Her stomach began to rumble painfully as she couldn't recall the last time she had eaten anything. Cautiously, she placed her feet on the ground trying not to wake Tig. Confident he was out; she stood from the bed and began to wonder around his room, hoping to find something edible. Instead, she became distracted by a few pictures when she noticed his club Cut lying on the nearby chair.

Apprehensively, she reached out her fingers and felt the supple, buttery leather. She was surprised by the amount on energy it radiated, both good and bad, and she wondered how many secrets or stories it could tell. She continued to run her fingers down the back of it, stopping at the lettering before running the tips of her fingers over the Reaper patch.

Suddenly, as if touching a hot stove, she yanked her hand away, feelings of inadequacy coursing through her. She felt unsure of being inside this clubhouse, but this was her best option, she had to do what was in her best interest and it wasn't going to matter how scared or anxious she got, she knew that this was the safest place. She moved away from the Cut, sat on the floor beside the bed and crossed her legs. Closing her eyes and taking a few deep, cleansing breaths she concentrated on emptying her mind and soon the room melted away. She chanted her mantra, "There can't be any large scale revolution until there is a personal revolution," and felt at peace with the moment and the swift clarity convinced her that this was her chosen path, she selected this way for a fated reason.

Tig awoke slowly; feeling emotionally drained after all he dreamt of was Ánie. He rolled over hoping to see her sleeping face again when he instead saw her sitting on the floor facing the wall. Tig's eyebrows furrowed together in wonder as he approached her, noticing her eyes were shut. After standing and admiring her patience and calm for a minute, he began trying to figure out a way to break her trance without startling her.

"I can feel you standing there," she said, looking up at him with a grin. Tig laughed, returning the smile.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked from above her.

"I'm meditating, I really needed it," she explained. Tig stuck his hand out for her to grab, helping her to her bare feet. She started to brush herself off when Tig swept the hair out of her face, their eyes meeting, an unknown force pushing them together. He was frustrated that he was still debating if it was too soon to merely kiss her, these emotions were unfounded. He watched her eyes flutter closed, feeling his pulse quicken when better judgment forced him to back away. Ánie opened her eyes, meeting his briefly before he looked down and backed off.

"Oh," Tig replied, walking across the room, "I've never known anyone who actually did that," he grabbed his Cut off the chair, slipping it onto his back. "I feel naked without this," he explained.

"Makes sense," Ánie nodded, leaning down and grabbing her bag. She didn't know why he was making this so awkward now and she had to admit her disappointment. Regardless, she approached him this time, hoping for a second chance at a kiss.

"Do you have anywhere to go?" Tig questioned. He didn't want her to think he was forcing her out when he was beginning to think he never wanted her to go away. Struggling with who he was as opposed to how he was currently feeling, he wondered what the guys would say if something became of this, how he was going to need to think about someone other than himself everyday.

"Not really," was the only answer she had and she hoped his question didn't mean he was trying to get rid of her. Tig only nodded in reply as he sat down in the chair. Ánie stood before him with mixed emotions. Daylight brought her back to reality and provided her with more questions then answers. She didn't have much time to think about it before her stomach began grumbling painfully and it dawned on her that she couldn't remember the last time she ate something.

"Hey, um, I really haven't eaten in a few days, it there something around here I could eat?" Tig looked up at her suspiciously, he really needed to find out what brought her here.

"Yeah, of course, I'm sure we can find you something," he stood and held his hand out for Ánie who was again aroused by his rough hands, causing a chill to creep up her spine. Tig stopped walking, thinking far too many things to really convince himself that it would be a bad move to take that kiss. He spun around and pulled her close, placing his lips on hers, weaving his fingers into her hair and grasping the back of her head with his left hand.

With no time to prepare, Ánie was caught thoroughly off guard by Tig's rough kiss. His lips felt stiff and thin on hers, but neither of them pulled away. Ánie took it upon herself to deepen the kiss, wrapping her arms around his back, Tig responding by enveloping her waist with his other arm, pulling her in tighter and pecking gently at her soft lips. Ánie knew her enjoyment was so very wrong, but her life had always been about the taboo and the wrong or unpopular thing. She knew there was no way her life could get any worse than it was yesterday, so really, what was the harm in seeking something potentially good? Once her mind caught up to what her heart was doing, she pulled away, casting her gaze on the dirty carpet. Tig held out his arms.

"I'm sorry," he said, stepping toward her. There was never a moment before in Tig's life where he felt this desperate for a girl to be in his arms. Ánie bit her lip and fought off a grin as she slipped herself into his hug.

"It's okay, Tig, really. It's just a lot right now," she concluded with a sincere smile, running her hand down his arm as a show of comfort. He nodded in response, resting his chin on her head. The couple stood holding each other, both uncertain of their next step.


	3. Three

Cough Syrup by callanleigh

Three.

_We roll the dice, we play like fools, plead with time to change the rules_

The early afternoon sunshine was hidden behind a wall of dark and heavy low hanging clouds, casting a murky shadow over Charming. The Samcro clubhouse was at a dull murmur, a few of the members and stragglers enjoying some hair of the dog, the general discussions were of small matter until Clay changed the subject.

"So, did that girl Tig disappeared with last night leave?" he wondered to the guys from his post at the end of the bar. The question was met with a few shrugs from Opie, Chibbs and Bobby who were the only other members to see her. Clay shook his head, muttering, "wonder where Juice is with that info," as the front door flew opened and Jax, the club's Vice President, strolled in.

"Hey," he tossed, taking a seat beside Happy, one of the more brutal members of the club. He cracked the bottle cap from his beer and asked, "where's Juice?" noticing all of the core members were present but him.

"Sent him out to do some research on this chick who snuck in here last night and disappeared with Tig," Clay replied, unhappy that this was somehow an issue.

"Oh!" Jax grinned, "good for Tig, man. Why are you worried about her?" he asked wary of the answer since girls who showed up to their parties were never a club matter the next day.

"She doesn't look like the type of girl we see wander in here for a night of fun, it's unusual," Chibbs explained. The others nodded in agreement.

"What does that mean?" Jax pondered knitting his eyebrows together wondering when his club had become so judgmental.

"She looked like a tree-huggin' hippie," Bobby coughed, "Long skirt, all this jewelry and peace signs, even one of those headbands, you know?" he drew a ring around his head, to get the image across to Jax. "Hot piece of ass, though," he mumbled into his brandy before knocking it back. Jax couldn't help but laugh and shake his head.

"Always such a pervert," he said, "but I don't know. She's probably just a vagabond looking for a place to crash," Jax shrugged taking a gulp of his beer. His comment was met with silence, a clear indication that no one else was convinced.

Juice rushed in minutes later, making a beeline for Clay. He sat two papers down in front of him, taking a deep breath.

"Sorry, I'm late," he said, breathing heavy from rushing around. He was guilty for letting Ánie in last night, but he never turned away a hot girl. He would've told her to keep moving if he'd known the rest of the club would be so suspicious of her presence.

"It's alright. What you got for me, kid?" Clay sat his tumbler down picking the papers up, glancing at the photocopies of a driver's license and change of address.

"Her name is Annie or something, I don't know, and she's 28. Only other thing I can tell you is that she is not from around here, not from this state. All I could find is the old license and change of address form from eight years ago. She lived in Nevada then, but since there's nothing," he noted the confused looks on everyone's faces, "weird, right?" he nodded.

"Alright, well shit. Thanks for trying, Juice." Clay said, tossing the papers in the garbage.

Moments later just after everyone settled back into normal conversation, the buzz quieted as Tig appeared from the back of the clubhouse and froze in their quizzical gazes.

"What?" he asked, confused by their staring.

"Is that hippie chick still here?" Jax asked, being the first to pipe up. Tig pursed his lips and continued on his quest for food. He felt a bit put out by his fellow members as he rummaged through the cabinets in silence, eyes still on him when he immerged with an unopened box of cheez-itz tucked under his arm.

"Yeah, why?" He turned back to his brothers, taking in each of their disapproving looks, apprehensive now about how Ánie's kiss elevated him only a minute ago.

"How long is she planning on staying here?" Clay spoke up this time because having this stranger in his clubhouse was making him anxious. Tig took a subconscious step backward, threatened by this inquisition. He was curious over her arrival himself, but now he was troubled by the whole chapter probing him about it.

"I don't really have an answer for that," he replied with honesty. Clay rolled his eyes turning his them away from Tig, convinced that she was not to be trusted. Tig paused for one last moment under their gazes waiting for anyone else to comment before he vacated the area.

He stomped back to his room, the vision of the club staring at him with worry glued to his mind. He walked in and tossed the box on the bed beside Ánie.

"Oh my god, thank you!" she exhaled grateful and sat up hoping he would join her. Instead, he disregarded her and just sat on the nearby chair. She tore into the flimsy cardboard, popping handfuls of artificial cheese snack into her happy mouth, still curious over his sudden distance.

"Everything okay?" she asked placing the box on the nightstand and swinging her feet to the floor, her gauzy skirt brushing her bare feet. Tig watched her approach from the corner of his eye, a persistent tug in his heart now that started when they kissed. He had never been so torn over a woman before this moment.

"Yeah," he nodded, gazing at her attractive face. She grinned at him and he let her perch on his lap as she curled her right arm around his neck.

"Are you sure?" she prodded with a smirk, brushing some curly fly away hair from his eyes. He nodded, unable to completely hide the small smile on his own face. "Thanks again for the food," she added, a bit perkier now that she had something in her system besides weed. Tig wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, a comfortable silence settling between them as they took in the simple pleasure of the other's presence.

"So you're name isn't actually Tig, is it?" she asked after a moment. He pulled his gaze away from her body to her soft brown eyes. He hadn't forgotten they only knew each other barely a day now, and he was a very private guy. Struggling with the desire to put her into his immediate fold and the pressure from the club being so concerned over her arrival made him unsure of how to answer her. He didn't know what was making everyone so nervous besides the way she looked, which to Tig held little significance.

"No, it's, uh, it's Alex," he faltered, as he rarely said his real name out loud. "I'm Alex," his skin was flushing, "Is _your_ real name Ánie?"

"Yes, it honestly is," she laughed, enjoying this quiet moment with a man and not feeling the least bit threatened. Tig was also taking pleasure in this strange sensation; it was nice to be optimistic about something again, even though he was apprehensive since she skirted around all of his questions last night with vague replies. He wouldn't be letting her stay if he felt she was untrustworthy, but there was always a margin of suspicion. They connected the moment he saw her sitting in that dark corner so he wasn't going to shun her just because he didn't know anything about her. Distracted by the wayward emotions, he kissed her bare shoulder before snapping out his reverie.

"Listen, um, we have church in a bit and then we have some other stuff to do so you can stay in here if you want. I just don't recommend leaving the compound," he said, worried to leave her alone. She nodded in reply studying his face, having no idea what any of that meant. Ánie made no plans on venturing out anyway; it would defeat the purpose of a hide out. She cradled his face in her hands, making him look at her. He softened at her smile, but the emptiness in his steely eyes didn't go unnoticed. She knew before getting here that each man in the Sons lived and died for his club so a potential relationship was a surprise to them both. She only had an objective of finding temporary protection while she erased her whole life and started over, the intention was never to stay.

"Have you ever relaxed?" she asked with a gentle tone. Tig's slight smile indicated that no, he hadn't. "You should try it sometime," she joked.

"There's no such thing as relaxation in my life, honey" he replied, "I'm always on call." Ánie grinned and shook her head.

"Yeah, yeah. I know," she mocked, amusing Tig with her flippant reply. She had only been there one night but she was already displaying good qualities, chief among those was not asking questions. She pressed her soft lips against his, lingering a moment as her heart fluttered. She squeezed her eyes shut before pulling away to peer at his deep blue ones again. He unwound for another moment, a wave of comfort eased through each muscle. She was right, even this brief relaxation felt nice but he was running late.

"Alright, I really gotta go," he urged letting her slide off his lap. As he stood to leave she spoke again,

"Hey, is there anyway you can bring some real food back with you?" He turned back and nodded,

"Sure, baby. Of course." Pausing in the doorway he took in the sight of her, a tad warm and fuzzy like he was last night when they were stoned. She smiled grateful and watched him leave, a stifling weight pressing on her chest as the door shut. Being on her own supplied her with swift uncertainty, a startling ball of nerves forming in the pit of her stomach. She was now desperate for fresh air.

Grabbing her bag, she was cautious as she opened the bedroom door looking down the halls, hoping she hadn't escaped one allegorical prison for another. The clubhouse was silent, minus murmuring leaking from the meeting room walls, an eerie switch from the copious amount of noise the previous evening.

She wondered down the halls blind, stopping on occasion to look at the photos and memorabilia, an incredible sense of irrelevance washing over her. She was a futile mouse in this giant rat farm; it was only a matter of time before she got caught in her own trap.

Through her trial and error, Ánie found the exit to the roof, the cool morning breeze felt soothing on her flushed skin and she exhaled all the stale air from her lungs. It was a relief to breathe for the first time since arriving at Samcro headquarters. The roof was bare save the typical pipes and hot boxes seen on all roofs so she sat down on a shadowy ledge staring out over all the other dim rooftops. She dug her Ipod from the depths of her bag, scrolling for a good song when a figure in the doorway caught her eye. She stayed hidden in the shadow thinking maybe she wasn't supposed to be up here. A woman who looked closer to her age stepped into the faint sunlight, her dark brown hair grazing the middle of her back.

"Hello? Is there someone up here?" she called out. Ánie grumbled realizing there was no place to be alone.

"Over here," she said, holding up a peace sign.

The woman whirled around at Ánie's voice and said, "Oh, hi. I pulled in and saw a girl on the roof I didn't recognize so, who are you?" Ánie rose from her spot on the edge of the roof, relieved this woman didn't appear to have a gun. She drug her eyes up and down Ánie, her long blond hair was pulled into a bun with her usual amount of peace sign and om symbol jewelry. She wondered where the fuck Ánie came from, peace and happiness were in short order around here.

"I'm Ánie. I'm just visiting," she said unsure of how else to explain her presence.

"Oh, I'm Tara, Jax's old lady." she replied, walking toward her, "who are you visiting?"

"Um, Tig," Ánie said tentative about where this conversation was headed.

"Really?" Tara narrowed her eyes as Tig had infrequent guests. "He doesn't normally get visitors like you, well besides his daughters," Ánie's eyebrows furrowed at the mention of Tig's kids. "I really think you might be in the wrong place."

"Okay," Ánie replied, defensive. "I needed a place to crash last night and I saw the party so I headed towards it. Tig let me crash with him."

"Okay, well that makes a lot more sense," Tara replied with a smile, hoping this girl wasn't naïve enough to think that a night spent with Tig was anything serious. Tara left it at that and headed for the door.

"It was nice to meet you," Ánie called, "I was beginning to think there was a severe lack of women around here."

"Oh, there is. It's just me and few others. Most of the other women come and go," Tara said indicating that she believed Ánie would go just as quickly as she came.

"Well, I might be sticking around for a while, so you can add me to the 'stay' list," Ánie quipped as Tara's eyes widened in amusement.

"With Tig?" she replied incredulous, this girl had to be clueless. Ánie nodded as Tara opened the door; a snide smile on her face. "Right, well good luck with that, I guess I'll see you around," Tara finished before disappearing down the stairs, leaving Ánie to wonder in silence what the fuck she was getting herself into.

_We will find what we once believed and will crawl our way to the clear skies_


	4. Four

Cough Syrup by callanleigh

_You've already won me over, in spite of me_

Sitting at a red light, the only thing the Sons of Anarchy could hear was the putter of their engines and the discordant grasshopper chorus in the grassy fields surrounding them. Tig sighed, staring up at the twinkling, two a.m. sky, his mind on Ánie. He had a gun pointed in his face tonight, while nothing new, he hoped he would make it back just to see her.

The roaring motorcycles reverberated off every home in Charming as the guys descended on their compound. Another long, violent night under their belts, they returned home black and blue. The gang marched in silence through the door of their clubhouse, everyone stopping at the bar for some numbing liquid and a recap on the evening.

Tig tried to concentrate and contribute, but it was impossible with Ánie so close now. He walked back outside to his bike for the paper bag full of burgers and fries he had promised to get. It had been so long since he had fallen for a woman, he conditioned himself after the loss of his first wife to put a wall around his heart, so the older he got the stronger and more impenetrable the wall had become. Somehow, Ánie was like a sledgehammer and as this first day came to a close, the crack in the wall began to show.

He grabbed a few beers on the way to his room, ignoring the group. They all continued talking but stole worried glances as he walked by them. Tig's short journey was wrought with mental tug of war; his loyalty to the club was now being measured in matters of the heart, leaving the answer for what to do about this budding relationship in a grey area.

Soft light was leaking through the door and he hoped she was still awake, but when he opened the door, Ánie was in a pair of shorts and t-shirt, asleep on her stomach with headphones in and her arms wrapped around a ratty, old teddy bear. A smile stretched across Tig's face, she was appealing to both good and bad sides of him, but he didn't feel the least bit bad over the wicked images flashing through his mind.

He leaned down and nudged her. She blinked her eyes open, smiling at his presence before she adjusted to the light and saw his cuts and the formation of a nasty bruise over his eye. Sitting up, she frowned; there was no easing into this lifestyle.

"You okay?" Although concerned, she knew he was fine. He nodded in reply.

"Yeah, I'm definitely fine. Been much worse," he smiled sitting on the bed. Ánie scooted over for him, pulling her knees under her chin with the bear caught between her legs and stomach. He held up a beer, hoping they could get a little tipsy together. Hesitant, she took the bottle, sipping some before holding it between her sock covered feet. "So, uh, what's with the bear?" He had to ask.

"I've had it forever, sadly it's the only thing that's never turned its back on me," she replied as Tig's face softened. It was easy to forget that everyone had their past, he was already dreading telling her his history, but Ánie was a mystery. He had to admit he was dying to hear hers. He watched her take another sip of her beer, her profile almost resembled that of his late wife, but when she turned to look at him again, the illusion was gone. "Thought you said you were bringing back food," she grinned.

"And I kept my word," he grabbed the bag from the floor, laughing as her eyes lit up.

"Yes! I haven't had a burger in so long, man," she exclaimed, ripping into the fast food. She was thankful for the distraction of Tig's arrival; her mind was an enemy these days and because she was already very committed to staying, her brain was nagging at her sense of urgency to move. Trying to let it go was challenging because every moment that passed was just as uncertain as the next.

"When does everyone expect me to leave?" she asked, finishing the last of her fries. Tig faltered, the club knew she was there but how long she could stay was really up in the air but he was into Ánie and wanted her to feel comfortable adjusting to her new surroundings.

"No one is really bothered by you staying," he lied.

"Okay," she paused, tossing her garbage back into the bag, full for the first time in weeks. "Thank you," she added. He smiled as he leaned kissed her forehead.

"You're welcome," he replied, finishing off his second beer. He wanted to get to know her for himself, but he still had an obligation to the club so if they were suspicious so was he. "Tell me something about you," he said, running a finger down her smooth leg, Ánie's body responding with goose bumps. With slight reluctance, she put her guard down and sat the bear beside her; the combination of beer and sitting with Tig comforting her instead.

"What do you want to know?" she asked finishing her beer.

"Another?" he asked and she nodded. He popped the cap for her as she took it from him. "I don't know; anything at all really." She shrugged, unsure how much information she was willing to let go of tonight. She was almost positive that no one would be able to find her, so if this was going to work, Tig deserved to know everything. Honesty and trust was going to have to be a solid foundation.

"I'm twenty-eight, they tell me I was born in Chicago, but I have no real proof of that," she crumbled up the burger wrapper, a lump forming in her chest.

"No birth certificate? Nothing?" Tig asked. The realization that she was an orphan raised a few red flags but she could just be running from an abusive ex, not everything was catastrophic.

"Nope," she shook her head, feeling the beer working as her emotions threatened to get the best of her, but she wouldn't cry in front of Tig yet. "I was living in Vegas until a few weeks ago. Since then I've just been floating around. Me and my Ipod," she tapped the machine with her foot and smiled.

"So you know how to take care of yourself, huh?" he guessed, relieved to know that she would be fine alone when he needed to be on the road.

"Yeah, I guess so," she faced him now, trying to decipher what was going on in his mind. She wasn't going to ask him to tell her something real, she wasn't ready to know anything about what he did everyday. "You know, you don't have to let me stay here, seriously," she said.

"No, no. It's not a problem, Ánie," he cleared his throat. "I, uh, want you to stay." She couldn't fight the smile.

"Oh yeah?" she joked as he smirked at her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her in close so she fell into his embrace, the seam of his Cut jabbing into her ribs. Although she wanted to, she was trying her best not to bother Tig by saying anything that might convince him she was rushing them into this, but she couldn't help question where he envisioned this relationship heading.

She knew from pervious experience with men not to try their patience and the Sons were not exempt from that rule. In fact, their social standards were those of outlaws, and relationships saw the most rule bending. Ánie considered herself an outlaw now with no home, no real identity and a huge price on her head, so she resolved to adhere to that standards of rules. Tig wove his hand into her hair, kissing the top her head, his fingers sending shivers through Ánie. She clutched his arm as desperation flew through her, she never been held like this before. She tilted her head back into his waiting lips, the kiss starting soft but the urgency multiplied, their tongues clashing together with necessity. Tig pulled her light frame to straddle his lap, gripping her hair, pressing her to him but he couldn't get her close enough. He tried to tug her shirt up but she stopped him, curling her hands around his fingers still locked in their kiss. Tig broke free to try again but and she pulled away. Ánie knew what he wanted and she wanted just as much to give it to him but to have meaningful relations was foreign to her. The urgency she felt to have him inside of her was scary; she wasn't ready to take this step. She wanted to believe that what was going on between them was real and though he had never given her no reason to doubt it, she would be let down if that was all he wanted from her.

"Oh, please," he begged, tilting her head back placing rough kisses on her neck. She gasped, digging her nails into the back of his neck, as a shiver spread down her body. He tried taking her shirt off again but she still pressed his arms away. "What's wrong?" he huffed. She shook her head and rested it on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I'm just," she stopped and looked him in the eye. "I'm not ready," she finished. He hung his head frustrated, but this was going to be different. If she wanted to take it slow that was what he needed to do. He ran his hand down her hair, nodding.

"Alright," he agreed although he didn't understand but decided not to press the issue. As much as he was aching to know what it felt like to fuck her, he didn't want her to get the wrong impression; the impression used to expect was unspoken. She climbed off his lap and laid down, the sleep returning to her fast. As Tig watched her settle, he was overwhelmed with peace of mind that had evaded him for decades. He slipped his Cut off, lay down behind her his right arm under her pillow and left arm around her waist. It didn't really matter what happened from this point forward as long as he had her to come home to.

Ánie was still wrapped in Tig's arms when the sun scattered through the slats in the blinds, shining a warm light over their sleeping faces. Her head was buried between his neck and shoulder, a slumber this deep had escaped her for years. It was uncanny how silent it was everywhere. She figured it was still early because there wasn't any noise coming from the garage yet.

She slipped out of Tig's embrace and rolled off the bed. The large purple-green bruise covered his right eye now. She leaned down and kissed it gently a sense of purpose washing over her. She wanted Tig to come home to her so she could to take care of him after a long day or fix him up after a fight. She never would've guessed a criminal would make her feel so domestic.

She walked out into the hallway, the clubhouse silent and still, the smell coffee filling the air. She followed her nose out into the common area to see a woman in her late fifties hunched over a magazine. Ánie froze, she knew who Gemma was and the matriarch terrified her. She was hoping that their first encounter would be supervised, but she had to swallow that fear, it wasn't going to win anyone's respect.

Ánie continued to the kitchen area, the hot pot of coffee billowing steam into the cool air. She poured herself a large mug, dumping sugar into it when Gemma came through the door, causing her to jump.

"Easy darlin'," Gemma said, giving Ánie the once over. "Maybe you should lay off the sugar," she added. Ánie let out a nervous laugh, staring into the depths of her coffee. "You must be Ánie." Taking a deep breath, she stepped back and opened herself up to Gemma.

"Yeah, that's me," she replied.

"The girl who has everyone all worried. You don't look threatening," Gemma said, closing the gap between them, "should we be nervous?" Ánie stared at Gemma's shoes and shook her head.

"No, I don't see why anyone should be worried about me," Ánie replied, looking up into her eyes.

"Well, you must be the sweetest pussy in the world to have Tig so wrapped around your dainty little finger already." Gemma's words stung but Ánie knew that was the whole point.

"Hardly wrapped around my finger and anyway, it's not like I planned to connect to him so fast. Shit like this happens when it's least expected; I can't control what the universe wants," she replied, hearing Gemma scoff.

"The universe? Honey, you are an insignificant speck of dirt as far as the universe in concerned, it doesn't give a damn about your love life," she countered. Ánie shrugged. She knew that after everything she'd been through in her life thus far, sooner or later fate would hand her something worth fighting for. Gemma's disbelief wasn't going to sway her.

"Look, I'm sorry that the club doesn't trust me, but I just came here looking for a place to crash for one night, anything more than that was unexpected and I shouldn't be required to feel bad or apologize for any of it," she replied, taking a sip of her too hot coffee. Gemma took another step forward and grabbed her chin, forcing Ánie to look into her hard gaze as her heart sped up.

"These men: they are murders, convicts and cheats. They are hardened, mean and sometimes very cruel. And Tig? Sweetheart, he's one of the worst. Hall of Fame kind of slime ball," she spoke low, indicating Ánie should listen closely. She wasn't sure if Gemma's words were meant to scare her off but Ánie knew how Tig made her feel. "If none of that worries you; the lies, the sleeping around or the uncertainty, then best of luck to you, doll. When he breaks your heart, you can't say no one warned you," she finished before walking away.

Ánie didn't move and stared at the counter before pouring Tig a cup, feeling like she narrowly missed being bitch slapped. She walked back into the common area; Gemma had taken her seat again and looked up as they caught each other's gaze but Ánie didn't stop, continuing to the bedroom.

As she opened the door, she caught Tig sitting up in the bed, staring out with a blank expression across the room but he turned his attention to Ánie and gave her half-hearted smile. She sat down beside him and presented him with the coffee.

"Thanks," he said, drinking the scalding liquid. She nodded but the silence was unnerving, Gemma's words on repeat in her head.

"How's your eye?" she asked, trying to take her mind off it. She knew it had to be throbbing like crazy.

"Eh, I'll live," he replied. Ánie wasn't expecting this shortness, hoping it had nothing to do with her. Testing it, she rested her head on his chest and he placed his arm around her shoulders giving her a gentle squeeze. Tig was trying to come up with a reason why he was being allowed this chance with Ánie; he wasn't convinced he deserved it. "I don't know why you're here, but I'm glad you came," his voice was low and melancholy. She looked at him and raised her hand to the side of his face. He turned his eyes to her; the emptiness now replaced with unexpected sorrow causing Ánie's heart to wrench in her chest.

Mornings were always the hardest for Tig, if he wasn't waking up alone, he was waking up with some cro-eater he didn't give a damn about. When he rolled over this morning and didn't see Ánie, for the first time in as long as he could remember, he was upset to wake up without a woman beside him. He had to let his guard down and let her see the truth. Misery was all he felt at the beginning and end of most days; the opportunity to be optimistic on a daily basis was one he refused to give up, no matter the cost.

He kissed her deeply, trying to make her understand everything that was on his mind, he didn't have much of a way with romance. He shuddered as she dragged her nails across his scalp, kissing him back with fervor. They pulled away and Tig grabbed her face in his hands, staring into her brown eyes trying to see any inkling of doubt she might be feeling but there was none.

"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered, offering him a smile. Gemma's words were indeed a warning and Ánie didn't want to be foolish but she had to believe in this for the both of them. He kissed her again, there was no way he would ever be able to explain what was happening in words, an explanation he knew his fellow club members would be eager to hear, but what was happening between him and Ánie was genuine. He let her go and she eased back into his arms, a great sigh escaping his throat.

"I'm sorry I have to be in the garage all day. I'd rather just stay here with you," he said. Ánie shrugged.

"I don't have to stay cooped up in here, do I? I'll come hang out," she offered. Tig thought of the club's disapproving looks, not looking forward to a whole day of staring, but he guessed they'd just have to get used to it.

"Yeah, okay," he said, kissing the top of her head.

Ánie had moved to sat in a chair in the garage office, the heavy stares from everyone around her taking its toll. She was trying to strike up some kind of rapport with Tig's friends but it seemed to be a one-sided effort.

"So are you actually serious about this chick?" she heard Jax's voice ask, they must've assumed she couldn't hear them. She stuffed her headphones in her ears, and pretended to be listening to music, her curiosity getting the best of her.

"Yeah, I think I might be," Tig said, causing Ánie to smile.

"Wow," Bobby chimed in, "she has to be around the same age as your daughters, you fucking perv." She heard a few laughs and rolled her eyes.

"Nah, nah, she's older than them. Just not by much," Tig said laughing and other laughs joining him. Ánie rolled her eyes; she gave less than a shit about how old Tig was. The conversation changed and Ánie flicked on her Ipod.

Hours later, she was still sat in the chair, jiggling her leg from boredom. She was wondering how she was going to live stuck inside this chain link fence when the office door scraped open, starling her. Tara walked in and at froze when she saw Ánie.

"Oh, you're still here," she said, causing Ánie her to roll her eyes more.

"I told you I would be," Ánie snapped. Tara turned and looked at her, cocking her head in surprise.

"Wow, feisty," Tara grinned. "That'll either get you far or get you removed depending on who you snap at." She sat down across from Ánie, trying to see through her. "The question remains why you're here. No one buys your 'just looking for a place to crash' bullshit but Tig." Ánie narrowed her eye. The less she thought about what she was running from, the more she believed her own lie. "Whatever it is you're hiding from, we don't need it. We don't need more trouble." Tara stood now.

"Oh my god, are you a broken record? I'm a traveler, I never stay in one place long and this wasn't going to be an exception but then I met Tig and I'm not turning my back on that." Ánie was putting her foot down frustrated already with being berated by all these opinions that she didn't even need.

"You're naïve to think that you mean anything more to him then just something to fuck," Tara quipped. "You stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours. I've got enough problems without saddling some strangers' too. Just don't bring your bullshit on this club or my family," Tara said standing. Ánie stood too, taking Tara's movement as a challenge.

"You want to be a bitch to me, fine. You and the rest of this club want to judge me, fine. But don't for one fucking second think that you have any idea what's going on between me and Tig. You don't know shit about me or my life, Tara, but I know plenty about yours," she warned. She hadn't arrived at Samcro in ignorance. Unknown to any of the new people in her life, Ánie had could be unpredictable if pissed off in the right way. She curled her tiny fists tight, ready to swing at any moment.

"Are you threatening me, new girl? I would think twice about that, you know, threatening the VP's old lady?" Tara spit, though she couldn't believe the balls on Ánie, she might have what it takes to be apart of this club's extended family.

"I don't know, wanna try me?" Ánie said, feeling her knuckles get white. Tara smirked and stormed out of the office, forgetting why she came there in the first place. Ánie watched her cross the parking lot to her car, taking soothing breaths. The trouble she might bring to Charming paled in comparison to the trouble that Ánie herself could cause. The hippie clothes and the meditation were started so she could teach herself to stay calm, but this place was already threatening to make her return to old habits. She stormed out of the office, tossing her bag over her head and bee lining for the clubhouse.

Tig noticed her long blonde hair in the corner of his eye, turning to see her stomping away.

"Already?" he asked himself as he sat his wrench down and wiped his fingers. He followed her through the doorway and into the common room,

"Ánie, baby? What's wrong?" he asked even though the common room was full of people. The crowd stopped talking and watching Tig trail after Ánie, everyone wondering that same thing. "Ánie?" Tig said again as they walked into the bedroom. This time she turned around,

"I don't know what I was expecting only a day into, whatever we are, but I'm starting to freak out," she explained. "I have," she paused, sure that Tig could relate to this, "I have anger issues and some ignorant, arrogant bitch getting in my face about shit I'm already very aware of really makes me want to punch her in the throat, okay? Moving and trying to get my mind off of it is the best thing I can do so I don't actually punch her," she finished through clenched teeth, only to be met with Tig's laughter.

"That's the sexiest thing I've ever heard," he smiled, watching Ánie relax a little, "but seriously, please don't hit Tara. Even I wouldn't be able to stop them from kicking you out of here." Ánie smirked, her anger subsiding. Tig got closer to her and placed his hands on her hips.

"Ánie, anger is my most familiar emotion; you don't have to ever be sorry to me for feeling it but it's good that you've taught yourself to control it. As long as you have that and a little patience, you'll be fine here, okay? I'm making sure of it. You just have to give everyone time to get to know you, even me," he said, kissing her. "I've got to get back," he finished, nodding at the garage outside the window. Ánie watched him leave and then she was alone.

_Don't be alarmed if I fall, head over feet_


	5. Five

"Cough Syrup" by callanleigh

Five.

_There's a killer on the road, his brain is squirming like a toad_

The comforter was making Ánie's skin flush, so she kicked the blankets off, closing her eyes again only to wake up an hour later shivering. She pulled the blankets back up and blinked at the ceiling titles with an empty mind. After almost five weeks of seeing the same shit and the same people, everything inside her was on edge, she was starting to resent being in this room. Even the constant opening and closing of the clubhouse doors started to grate on her nerves. She was going stir-crazy and her will to hide had broken, plus she had enough of lying there listening to Tig snore and trying to will herself to sleep night after night. Having seen Charming only from the rooftop of Samcro headquarters, tonight was the night she was getting out.

Tig was passed out beside her and Ánie knew he wasn't going to move for a while, so she left the bed and grabbed the Ipod from her bag on the floor. She didn't change her tie-dyed shorts or long-sleeve tee, but slipped on her favorite worn black flip-flops and a red hoodie. The clubhouse was quiet, but it was early in the morning and there were still members, cro-eaters and friends drinking until the sun came up. The front gate was locked shut as it always was after a certain time, so she tiptoed to the roof exit. Once she was at the edge of the roof, she paused to double-check she had the prepaid phone Tig had given her and then climbed down a drainpipe, reaching across a small gap to the chain link fence to climb her way out of the compound.

Ánie began walking, unsure of where she was headed, having no clue how Charming was mapped out. She had been feeling like a well-trained pony these past few weeks, doing everything she could for the club and Tig to prove her loyalty and show her gratitude, it felt nice to be walking with the cool, evening breeze caressing her skin.

She flicked her Ipod on and walked for over an hour, and then two passed when Ánie finally stopped. She had come to the edge of town; all she could see were open roads and dried out cornfields ahead. Her heart started to beat faster and she broke out into a nervous sweat so she speed dialed Tig, hoping he would wake up and tell her how to get back to H.Q. Instead, it rang and rang until the line clicked off. Sighing, she put the phone back in her pocket, turned around and tried to retrace her steps. "Riders on the Storm" began playing, so she dug out her straight pipe hoping that getting stoned would bring down the anxiety. She got lost in the music, the increasing high helping her to stop worrying about her surroundings and just enjoy walking around.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a looming figure, so she made a movement to cross the street away from it, but a large hand clamped down over her mouth and an arm gripped her waist, forcing her to lose her balance. Her heart began racing and she tried to yell, but the hand she knew all too well muffled her desperate cry. The man dragged her off the dimly lit sidewalk into a dense wooded area as she kicked, squirmed and struggled against him but was unable to wrench free of his grasp. Another hand reached up and yanked the headphone from her ears, the buds dangling from around her neck, The Doors now faint background noise.

"I told you there was no escaping, Kenealy!" The voice whispered in her ear. Ánie's eyes widened in fear and her blood ran frigid. The man spun her around and she was now staring into the eyes of the very evil she was hiding from. He went by the name Moon, she was never sure what his real name was. He was a big juicehead with outrageous muscles, bulging out from underneath his too tight t-shirt and she noticed two of his equally meaty associates flanking him. As her fight or flight kicked in, she raised her fists to him. If she was going down, she was going to do it swinging.

"You stupid bitch," Moon spat with his snarling voice, "You think your little fists are going to protect you from me? They're offering me a shit ton of money to bring you back to Vegas but I think I'd rather kill you for burning down my house!" Ánie wavered but refused to back down, she would do anything she could to stay alive. He lunged at her, so she clenched her teeth and swung, her fist slamming into the side of his face, knuckles cracking. He paused, the blow inconveniencing him but he recovered fast. "Stupid fucking slut!" he yelled but she had already took off running, shoving her music into her back pocket.

"You can't fucking run anymore!" Moon called, rubbing his tender cheek, "After her!" he said to this cronies as they took chase before pursuing her himself. She could hear the pounding footsteps of their stomps getting closer with each stride. Heart thumping like mad, she pulled out the pre-paid, calling Tig in fear and hoping against everything that he would pick up this time. It was still ringing when a hand slapped the phone away from her and she was shoved to the ground, yelling out as she hit the ground with a painful thud, the weight of a two hundred and fifty pound man pressing on her back. Her hands were yanked behind her back as a rope bound her wrists together uncomfortably tight.

Tig's eyes shot open, the vibrating cell phone disturbing him from sleep. He rolled over to put his arm around Ánie but instead felt an empty bed. Startled, he sat up noticing her bag at the end of the bed, a sinking feeling in his heart when he remembered the phone woke him up. He flipped it open but the line was already dead. He checked his calls to see he had missed two, from the number he had given Ánie, at three and four thirty and it was quarter of five now. Alarmed, he got up from bed and slipped his Cut and jeans on, stuffing his gun in the back of his pants. He left the room in a fury feeling that something was a-miss. Just outside the clubhouse, Happy, a prospect and a few very inebriated cro-eaters were still sitting by the wrestling ring, staring down the sunrise.

"Yo, Hap," Tig said, clapping his shoulder. "I need back up, get your bike and come with me." Happy nodded, sitting his beer down and following Tig in silence.

"What's going on, man?" he asked since it was a rare occurrence that a lone member needed back up at the ass crack of dawn.

"Not now, just follow me!" Tig barked, revving the throttle and exiting the compound after a prospect opened the gate. The pair began to ride through the sleepy streets of Charming, Tig keeping an eye out for any sign of Ánie. At a red light in the middle of town, Tig's phone vibrated in his pocket and he scrambled to pick it up but all he could hear were harsh, muffled sounds before either yelling or crying.

"Ánie?" he asked, before he tried to speak louder, hoping she could hear him, "Ánie! Where are you?" he called into the phone but was met with a disconnected line. "Shit, man!" Tig yelled, peeling away. He speed off, desperate to figure out where she could be when he remembered how little he still knew about her, a fact that was landing him in a hunt for a needle in a haystack.

The boys rounded another corner when something on the sidewalk caught Tig's eye. He pulled over and picked up a lone black flip-flop he recognized as Ánie's. He peered ahead of him into a dense wooded area as Happy walked up behind him, snatching the flip-flop from his hand, watching Tig climb into the trees.

"Tig, man, you gotta fill me in on what going on," he said, following Tig without hesitation.

"I woke up and Ánie wasn't in bed. I had missed two calls from her and then another at that red light. I think I heard yelling," he explained as he continued to tiptoe around twigs and branches. Happy paused, unsure about what was going on with Tig, but followed him out of allegiance. The two walked for a few minutes when they heard what sounded like a man yelling in the distance. They looked at each other before venturing off in the direction of the voice. It was silent for a while when muffled voices started again, inching closer, they could hear a whimper before a brief struggle and more silence. As they crouched down behind some low shrubbery, figures of three men in the distance standing around something when one of them reached his hand back and slapped a hidden body. The slap caused the person to groan and Tig recognized the voice.

"That's Ánie!" Tig whispered, jumping up from his crouched position but Happy pulled him back to the ground.

"Stay here! If that is her we need to figure out how to get her away from this without getting hurt more," Happy said. Tig nodded, grabbing his gun.

Ánie was trying her best not to scream and cry, knowing it would only egg Moon on, as he liked his women helpless, although she hadn't felt quite this powerless since she left him. On her knees now, hands tied behind her back, she felt her face was beginning to swell, the beating he had laid on her taking it's toll. She licked her lips and tasted the nickel-flavored blood from her split bottom lip and glared up at Moon and his goons as they laughed, Moon's open palm stinging and burning as it met her already tender cheek once more. Ánie gasped, and she was more annoyed then in pain, wishing that she'd stayed in the clubhouse where she felt safe from the horror she had been running from.

With no time to brace herself, the three men started beating on her again. Her voice froze in her throat as they began kicking her in the ribs, punching her face and picking her up just to knock her back down. Ánie went numb, waiting for the final blow to end all of this pain. She thought of Tig and all the things they might never get to experience now, as she was sure they were going to kill her, just as Moon had promised if she were to ever try to run away.

"Stop!" Moon yelled, pulling his gun out and pointing it at Ánie's face. A fresh batch of tears slid down her cheeks, this wasn't how she wanted her life to end. "Any last words, whore? " he asked, but she shook her head, all she could do was stare at him and accept death. She squeezed her eyes shut when she heard a second gun cock, surprised to hear the noise come from behind her.

"Put the gun down," the voice said and she recognized Tig's voice, her heart jumping to her throat. She pleaded with the universe to let Tig help her, gathering what little strength she had left. She narrowed her eyes to see Moon and his cronies cock their guns, pulling them away from her to point them at the new arrivals.

"No, no, my friend. I wouldn't do that," Tig warned, stepping in front of Ánie but Moon didn't back down.

"What the fuck do you want?" he yelled, shoving the barrel of his gun at Tig.

"I want you to get the fuck out of my town before I fucking kill you," Tig replied, his voice calm. Moon began to laugh, causing Tig and Happy to exchange angry glances.

"This prick is here to save you, Kenealy?" Moon laughed, turning around to trade dubious glances with his goons. "Unbelievable, you worthless whore!" he yelled, turning back to Tig and Happy. "You have no idea who you are fucking with," he said, re-gripping his gun and never breaking eye contact with Tig. "This," he gestured to Ánie, "belongs to me. I'm just here to take care of what is mine." Tig hesitated, knitting his eyebrows together, unsure of what business this stranger had with Ánie and what he meant, but he kept his gun steady. Ánie meant so much to him now, he didn't care about anything that might've happened in her past.

Moon circled Ánie, not standing behind her with his gun still pointed at Tig. He grabbed the rope that bound her wrists together, yanking her to her feet. Ánie held her tongue as she looked at Tig with begging eyes but he was waiting for a good moment to help her find a way out of this. Moon flipped his gun and Ánie felt cold steel press against her temple. She sucked in a breath, her eyes brimming with more tears. Tig was so close, all she wanted was to be back in bed with him wrapped up in his arms. Tig's eyes fell soft but he stood his ground.

"I wouldn't," he warned, but Moon only smiled then brought the butt of his gun down with all of his force to collide with the bridge of Ánie's nose, a searing white-hot pain blinding her and she collapsed to her knees, blood pouring over her mouth.

Tig watched as Ánie fell to the ground in anguish with a yell, his heart twisting with empathy. His blood was simmering in his veins, he couldn't stand by anymore and watch Ánie get abused. He exchanged a glance with Happy and they both charged forward, firing shots into the flankers, both men falling to the ground, releasing their guns. Moon took advantage of the chaos and lifted Ánie back to her feet using a fistful of her hair as leverage. She yelped in agony as he pulled her close to him, wrapping his arm around her neck and pressing the gun against her temple once more.

"Come on, Kenealy, tell these guys you belong to me! You have no identity and no family. You belong to me until I fucking kill you!" he yelled, getting a better grip on his gun, pressing his arm tighter into her neck. Ánie was in a daze, Tig's face was a blur amongst everything else in her vision. She was in so much pain and involuntary tears were still flowing down her face. Being tortured at Moon's hand used to be a routine for her, she never thought they would find her in Charming to continue the tradition. Now she was a gun shot away from death, staring into the eyes of the only man who had ever showed her any kind of respect and hope for the future.

"Ánie," Tig couldn't think of any comforting words, just saying her name was all he could muster. Moon choked up on her more, his face crinkling with intense anger. He leaned down to her ear and growled,

"That is NOT your name. What did I tell you about using that name, Kenealy! Tell him your name!" He adjusted his grip again, pressing the barrel harder against her clammy skin. Ánie was so tired, she just wanted to take a shower, lay in Tig's arms and forget that any of this shit happened.

Exhausted of this fight and ready for it to end, she shook her head, refusing to give into Moon, she had no obligation to him anymore. Moon yelled, about to pull the trigger when Tig shot him in the arm, blood splattering against Ánie.

"Holy shit!" she yelled, the reality of what just happened sinking in too fast. Moon screamed out, releasing his grasp on Ánie and she crumpled to the ground. Happy rushed on Moon, kicking the gun away from him and bringing his fist down to collide with Moon's ugly mug. Tig rushed to Ánie's side, bending down and brushing the blood soaked hair from her face.

"Don't worry, I'm going to get you out of here, baby," he said as she sobbed into his arm. They sat for a moment, Tig was rubbing her back trying his best to comfort her. "I'm going to help you up, okay?" He slid his arms underneath her battered body, and held her near limp frame as Happy kneeled down to cut her restraints. Moon used the moment to make a get away, limping into a shadowy area. Happy's attention turned back to Moon and he took off after him.

"Don't let him get away!" Tig yelled, helping Ánie to her feet. She took a few steps but shook her head as every muscle, tissue and nerve screamed out in protest.

"I can't," she clung to Tig, looking at his worried eyes. He leaned down and carried her to his bike on the street. He handed Ánie his spare helmet, and she pulled it on, just noticing how much her entire head was throbbing.

"Fuck, I lost him," Happy said jumping out of the woods a moment later, "Sorry, man." Tig shook his head as he helped Ánie sit before mounting his bike. She slid her arms around his waist and squeezed, so thankful that Tig found her, she didn't want to think about the alternative. As the bikes roared back through the early morning streets, Ánie relished in the cool air hitting her face; the environment was providing her with relief and drying all of her blood, sweat and tears.

_Like a dog without a bone and an actor out on loan, riders on the storm_


	6. Six

AN: SEASON FIVE PREMIERE WAS INSANE!

Thanks everyone who is following my story, it makes my day when I get those emails! Please leave more reviews and thoughts, I love to read them. Hope you're all enjoying Ánie's journey. 3 PS- This chapter is MA for sexual content ;) !

"Cough Syrup" by callanleigh

Six.

_Scars are souvenirs you never lose, the past is never far_

It was almost six in the morning by the time Tig, Ánie and Happy arrived back at the clubhouse. The parking lot was empty, it was still too early for anyone to be at work. After thanking Happy and saying goodbye, Tig helped Ánie into the clubhouse straight to the bedroom. She collapsed down on the bed, every inch of her body and mind screaming out in anguish. Ánie sat up as Tig came back from the bathroom with some wet rags and peroxide, dabbing gently at wounds on her face.

Distracted by all the things running through his mind, he said offhand, "I'm going to ask Tara later to have a look at you." Ánie was trying in vain to wipe blood from her hands, but looked up at him and shook her head,

"No, no. Please. She and Gemma made it very clear they want nothing to do with my baggage." While Tig was aware that the club still had their misgivings about her presence, he was upset to find that they had legitimate reason to worry now. This man intended on killing Ánie for reasons he still didn't know and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know her real story or if he was okay just letting her be what he wanted.

Unable to stop the bitterness in his tone, "Tara is the only person who can fix you up, Ánie, and the hospital asks too many questions that I'm going to assume you don't want to answer." She huffed, taking the rag from him and moving back to the bathroom to wipe away the blood herself. As she gazed at her temporarily disfigured face, she knew people were going to ask questions regardless of their previous suspicions. She accepted death tonight as she stared down the barrel of Moon's gun, her pathetic life had flashed before her eyes and she realized that she need to be grateful, and cautious, of this second chance.

Tig approached the doorway to see Ánie sitting on the toilet, staring expressionless at an unremarkable spot on the wall. His heart and mind still at war, he was troubled to see Ánie so damaged and a little angry because she brought all this on him without a warning. What if she was phoning it in and playing him for a fool just to be protected?

"Alex," she managed to mutter and his heart skipped a beat hearing her say his real name. His heart wrenched as she looked to him with pained brown eyes, "If you wouldn't have been there," her voice choked but she blinked the tears away. It hurt too much to cry, the salty tears stung her open wounds.

He kneeled down next her on the floor, placing his hands on her knees. "I was there, that's all that matters," his soft tone comforted her, "but you realize you have a lot of explaining to do."

Blinking at his hands on her knees, she sighed, feeling horrible that her selfishness put Tig in a position of defending her when everyone else had been right all along. "I just don't want it to make you think different of me."

Tig shook his head and ran his hand up her thigh, squeezing gently, offering her a light smile, "There's no way that anything you've done is worse than some of the things I've done," Reassured, Ánie grabbed his hand and stood from the toilet, not wanting to have this conversation in a bathroom.

"Alright," her eyes fell heavy with exhaustion as soon as she hit the bed. He hovered and Ánie watched him with caution. They still hadn't known each other for very long and her story was a lot to hear in just one sitting, especially after what happened only a few hours ago.

After gathering her thoughts, Ánie jumped into it, "my teenage years were spent as a bit of a wild child, constant parties, drugs, drinking, and sleeping around. A general fuck all for any and all structure and authority." Tig shifted, approaching the bed to sit beside her. He nodded at her, eager to hear the rest.

Gulping down nerves, she continued, "When I turned seventeen I left home, because I obviously knew everything and didn't need parents telling me what to do all the time. So I ran away to Vegas and started stripping because it was the easy solution to my problems. I made a shit ton of money but I didn't take care of it at all, I put it up my nose and spent the rest on my hair, make-up, clothes, cars, shit that doesn't fucking matter." Ánie took a deep, calming breath, a bit put out by this story already. It was the first time anyone bothered to hear her tell it and she could still feel all the weight and pain of the mistakes, like scratching open a fresh healed wound.

Jiggling her leg, she continued, "Then there was this guy that started coming in all the time, bugging me. He called himself Moon and he always gave me over a grand a night in less than an hour. Each time he came in, he would asked me out on dates or try to get me to go home with him. I wasn't allowed to do either of those things just on house rules alone, but a larger part of me just didn't trust any of those pathetic assholes that walked through the door, no matter how much money they threw at me."

"Soon after Moon started showing up, the club changed hands and the new manager was a real fuck. I hated him. He sexually abused all of us, made us work twice as much and took more than half of every girl's daily pay. Moon didn't stop coming in and as things got shittier at work, the more attractive just being given money and gifts sounded, anything to get away from this fucking asshole manager. After my best friend there, Kayla, was almost raped by him, we took off and I told her about Moon's standing offer so we decided that was where we should go. We packed all of our shit and moved in with him the next day and I second-guessed the decision right away." "The house was huge, more than ten bedrooms which is suspicious in Nevada, but there were only men there that I saw and Moon claimed it was like a frat house, that he just lived with a bunch of friends for cheaper rent in a nice place. I don't know. I didn't care. I got a nice bed, ate three times a day, and had all the clothes and drugs I wanted. I was satiated, to say the least."

"But after a few months things started to get weird and scary. Moon turned cold and controlling with me and Kayla. He started locking us in our rooms at night, calling me Kenealy which was the most confusing thing ever. It started to feel like I was being conditioned like a dog. Trained to know my name, stay in my crate, beg for shit and like it. I never saw Kayla again after that started either." Ánie's fists clenched in frustration, which Tig noticed right away.

He picked up her balled fist and wrapped his warm hand around it. His eyes were clear with empathy, he understood her hurt and anger. "You do realize I already want to kill this asshole, right?" His tone was calm and she chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment, absorbing the foreign emotion of a man holding her hand to calm her, instead of strike fear in her.

"The rest of the story doesn't get better," she cast her eyes down to the boots on his feet, taking a shaking breath. "One night while I was fast asleep, I woke up to my door creaking open and a man I didn't recognize came in so I pretended to still be asleep, until I felt him grab my ankles and restrain me with this scratchy rope. I tried to fight him and I know that I hit him because my knuckles were all bruised the next day but he was a lot bigger than I was and he wrestled me down before tying my arms up too. He ripped my clothes off and I was helpless to do anything but lay there and stare at the ceiling as this man did whatever he wanted to me." Ánie felt her skin start to crawl and she yanked her hand from Tig's, rising to her feet. She walked back to the bathroom and stared at her bruises some more, choking back heavy tears.

Tig hated the helpless feeling as he watched her recall the memories. He could always come up with a plan of revenge but he had no idea how to comfort this woman he loved. She came back in the room and leaned against a dresser to create deliberate distance but continued, "The first guy left without untying me and hours later another guy came in and this repeated for I don't even know how long. Then Moon came in and untied me before beating me and raping me himself and at that point, I was already so broken I couldn't fight. He told me I was his whore and I would do anything that was asked of me or this would happen some more. I never saw the outside of my room again, and every night from then on I was basically a slave. Guys would come in and dominate me and make me do these horrible, degrading things. I couldn't even defend myself, or I would face the rapings and beatings again. So night after night I got locked up in my room and I would just lay there and think of how to get away, I stopped sleeping."

"Once I thought up a plan, I taught myself how to pick the lock so I could sneak out of my room when everyone was asleep and started stealing everything I needed. When I was ready, I convinced one of the random men to let me be his dom for the night, that I would switch with him when I was done. So, I tied him up, gagged him, got dressed," she lost her words, thinking back to that night and blinked away more tears.

Tig stood from the bed and closed the gap between them, but keeping his distance, "You don't have to finish now if you don't want to, you should get some sleep." Ánie attempted a grateful smile but winced in pain instead.

"No, you need to know this as much as I need to tell it," she said, gaze on the floor. Taking a deep breath she continued, "I had been stealing people's lighters for the fluid. So that night I smashed most of them open on this guy and used one to light the fluid." She snapped her eyes up to see Tig's widen in surprise. He was startled to discover the peaceful girl he met a few weeks ago to have such a brutal solution to her problem.

Not believing his ears, he reiterated, "You lit some guy on fire?" If he was being honest with himself, he was impressed by her not only telling him the truth, but by her action, it was sexy to know she could be vicious.

"I didn't know how else to make a distraction but start a fire, plus I was so mad about everything that was happening to me and I assumed all the other hidden women in the house. This guy was just the lucky one who got to be an example for every one," Ánie shivered, she could still hear that man screaming as the fire blazed across his naked body and the smell of burning flesh was haunting. "I managed to get downstairs and hide before the smoke detectors woke everyone up and everyone ran out front once they noticed the fire. I snuck out back and I ran, I didn't stop until I got out of Nevada." Tig bit his lip, unable to fight the surge of disappointment that pressed through him, even thought he was awed with her, he couldn't help but be hurt that she originally intended to use him and the club. She noticed the change in his icy gaze as he shifted, her stomach clenched up in fear of what he was thinking.

"And now you're here hiding," he sneered and she could only nod, unsure of who she was looking at. He shook his head to straighten out his thoughts. "So, let me get all of this straight. There is a lunatic trying to kill you because you burned his house down, which also means you're probably wanted for manslaughter and arson. Is there anything else you want me to know?" he asked, disappointed that he fell for her game. He was sure he found something different in Ánie, and he had done was let his guard down only to find all the naysayers were right all along.

Ánie approached him, feeling a desire to get closer to him, she knew he wasn't going to understand right away. "I changed my appearance. Moon made me dye my hair black, get all these piercings. Kenealy burned his house down. That's not me, Tig." Staring at her, he was trying to decipher all of this information, but he wasn't sure who he was supposed to trust right now, Ánie or Kenealy.

"Who are you, really?" He had reassured his club that she harmless, just a runaway looking for shelter, but now she was compromising his loyalty to Samcro.

"Ánie. That's me, the name my hippie mother gave me. This is my natural hair color and I have no indentifying tattoos or anything. Maybe I should get one," she said, trying to lighten the mood but Tig wasn't smiling. "Okay. I'm sorry to drag you into this. I really didn't think they'd be able to find me, they're fucking dumbasses."

He was fighting the urge to hold her and tell her that he would protect her at any cost but he couldn't stop going over the notion that she played him, convincing him and everyone else that she only stumbled upon Samcro. "Why did you come here then? You can't tell me it was by accident." Tig's demeanor changed again, this time he sounded angry and confused.

Ánie reached down and grabbed his hands, she craved to have him close and wanted him to understand the change in motive. "Some of your fellow members liked the girls that Moon had living in the mansion. They were always the guys I looked forward to seeing since they were kind to us. Sometimes I heard them talk about the Charming chapter in Northern California and how they would drop everything if you guys asked for help and I understood that this place was the home of the original Sons. So when I made my plan, I decided to head here, hoping to find protection."

Upset to hear the real facts, he creased his eyebrows and backed away, "I can't believe this," he muttered. "I should just learn to listen to everyone." Ánie felt her lip quiver as he created distance again, but she bit down to stop her distress from showing.

"No, they're wrong! I swear to you that when you kissed me, all of that became unimportant. Staying with you has become my focus. I'm sorry if I betrayed your trust. I came here looking for one thing but I found something else entirely. Please don't hold my story against me," she felt her breath get shaky in her chest, "I did what I had to do to stay alive, I could feel my resolve start to break and once that happened, I knew I was dead. I'm not sure about anything in my life anymore, but you've given me hope for the future and I want to see us through. I know the life you're in is messed up, but so am I," she moved to him. He could see her shaking, and couldn't back away.

Tig's heart began to beat like mad in his chest as she enveloped his senses. Ánie spoke to him in ways that no one had before, she was extraordinary and all standard judgment was impaired when he looked at her. He was battling a rare moment of was confusion and fright since the last time he felt this way about a woman was a lifetime ago. He still felt the severe pain of loss over her death even this long after the accident. He realized he only had two options at this juncture; push Ánie away to never feel that kind of loss again or keep her close and enjoy being in love once more, despite any doubt.

She was still shaking as he held her, hoping she understood that he wasn't good with words. Tig breathed in her sandalwood shampoo as he spoke into her hair, "I have to tell the guys what you told me," he warned.

Voice muffled by his shirt, Ánie nodded, "I know. I am sorry I've put you in this situation, I still hope to prove everyone wrong, show them I'm not just here to hide." Warmth surged through her hearing his heart beat a reassuring thump in her ear. Tig grasped her chin in his fingers forcing eye contact.

As he stared at Ánie he made a resolve, not only for her but for himself, "Baby, it doesn't matter what everyone else believes, I'm not going to let you get hurt again. You're part of us now and everyone will keep do their part to keep you safe. I have no idea what this guy is about." Only time would tell if Ánie was true to her word right now, but he had to focus on the present and hope the future would fall into place without anymore incident.

She pressed away from him and gestured to her current state, "This is what he's capable of, he's about violence and degradation and he preys on weaker men and women. Now that he's met you and Happy, I'm not sure he'll have the balls to come up against the Sons, plus the Nevada chapter were such loyal customers he'd be toe-stepping. No, It's going to be fine," she said, more to reassure herself. She walked back into the bathroom to stare at her shiners, noticing Tig's reflection in the mirror.

"Hope you're right," he shrugged, eyebrows knitted together in thought. She spun around to face him, leaning against the counter. She crossed her arms, trying to get a better read on him, knowing there was something he wasn't saying.

"What's it going to take for you to be completely forthright with me?" She didn't move her eyes from his, the only thing that was going to keep them from being ripped apart was communication, no matter what had to be said.

His expression softened and he sighed. Maybe he owed it to her to really try for once. "This whole thing tonight, Ánie, I don't even know what to think and it's been a really long time since I've been serious about anything but this club. I've spent a lot of time and effort distancing myself from this kind of thing. I've lost so many people I care about and it never gets any easier. I've lost love once, I'm not sure I can go through it again." He moved into the bathroom, his saddened blue eyes meeting hers once more and he took her hand in his, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. "And you're so young and beautiful, considering what you've already been through you don't need the kind of life I have to offer you. I don't want to be the reason you get dragged through." Ánie was never about rolling over and giving in.

"I'm not leaving and he won't come back but if he does, we can handle it. All anyone has told me since I got here is how little I know and how much I'm going to regret, but I know this is worth it. Everyday that I have a reason to wake up is a day worth living. I've spent over ten years looking for something to help give my life purpose and you've given me that. You could never drag me down farther than I already am," she took a shaking breath, having never had to speak from her heart quite like this before made her stomach twist and throat dry, but she'd continue to do it as long as it meant Tig was by her side.

Even thinking back on all of his past relationships, good, bad and unimportant, he couldn't recall ever being told he was gave someone's life purpose. A few things kept him existing from day to day, like his daughters and the club, but an ethereal purpose had escaped him until Ánie walked into his life.

Ánie's heart was thumping in her ears as Tig kissed her, the world around her faded for a brief moment. The lingering scent and taste of blood on her was arousing Tig, not that he needed help, he had been dying to know what she felt like for weeks. She slid her arms around his neck as he gripped her hips and pulled her off the floor, wrapping her legs around him as he carried her over to the bed. They began kissing with fervor as an unprecedented urgency took hold and Tig ran his hands over every inch of her body, the urge to explore his new love from the inside out was overwhelming. He wasn't a fan of taking it slow, always in a hurry to get right to the point but this occasion was rare, he wanted this to be special for her, knowing very well that sex didn't have a pleasant place in her life.

Removing their clothes was a pressing matter, she hooked her fingers under his cut, yanking it off and tossing it on the floor, curling her legs tighter around his waist to pull him closer, feeling his excitement pushing against the flimsy material of her shorts. He could feel the warmth coming from her even through his jeans and he let out an involuntary groan against her lips. Encouraged, Ánie leaned up on her elbows to remove her shirt as Tig did the same. He couldn't help but stare, finally seeing the beauty that lie underneath her usual layering of clothes. He lavished her neck and chest with kisses, hungry for more of her. She gasped at the sensation of his lips on her bare skin and he removed her bra without any more hesitation, delighted at the sight of her pink nipples before taking each into his mouth as she arched her back. He trailed his kiss down her bare torso, making Ánie writhe as he nipped at her sensitive hipbones. She dug her nails into the bed sheets, bracing herself for what was next.

Tig sat up and tugged her shorts and panties off, eyeing his prize with a predatory gaze. "God damn, Ánie," he breathed out, soaking up her naked form before burying his face between her legs. Ánie opened her mouth but no sound came out as jolts of bliss shot through her, more intense than anything she could remember from her previous life. She dug her fingers into his hair as he lapped at her, ravenous. He couldn't wait any longer, pulling his kiss back up her body, and removing the rest of his clothes. He groaned before crashing their lips together again. He needed to feel her now.

He hooked his arm under her shoulder, using his free hand to brush a few strands of blonde hair from her face, "Are you sure about this?" he whispered, searching for any doubt or hesitation, hoping she wasn't going to change her mind now. Ánie nodded, running her nails over his scalp.

"Yes. Please," she urged through gritted teeth. Between gentle pecks, he placed the tip of his dick at the entrance to her dripping wet pussy, feeling how tight she was already, his arousal peaking. She tensed up, a rush of memories causing apprehension even though she trusted Tig.

"It's okay. I'll be gentle," he cooed, pressing into her. She consciously relaxed all of her muscles and sucked in a breath, opening her legs wider to meet him as the tip popped in. "Fuck," he grunted, resting his head against her shoulder. Ánie raised her hips to meet him a yell escaping her lips before she started clawing at his back in desperation. He pushed another few inches inside her agonizingly slow, he wanted to savor every second of his first time inside of her. He grunted as he forced his dick inside her, aiming to bury it to the hilt. Ánie was panting now, he had been joking with her for weeks about how big his cock was but she didn't expect it to be true.

Once he reached the limit, he took a deep breath and placed gentle kisses on Ánie's collarbone, pulling his length out and easing the whole thing back in, moving quicker with each thrust. She started bucking her hips up to meet him, dragging her nails down his back, loving the feeling of being full and satisfied by a man for the first time in her sexual history. Ánie was moaning now, his thick cock sliding in and out with ease and even though this was their first time, Tig knew all the right places to hit inside of her. As their orgasms gathered deep inside, their lips met once more and that was when it dawned on Ánie: She had never had sex with a man who loved her before.

_Grew up way too fast, now there's nothing to believe and reruns all become our history._


End file.
